Rivers of the Night

Theron crossed his sword over his chest, his steps pivoting and the veins on his arms bulging as he unleashed a grunt, parrying the sword to the side.

The changes the sword underwent were forced into his very being, every attempt to balance out the parry making his own muscles twitch in various ways.

Theron exhaled a breath even as he flexed, pushing the blade to the side and past his cheek. He entered Veinsong, the fluctuating pulses of his blood reflecting in his mind like he was observing the waves of the ocean.

'There…'

The thought was fleeting as his mind went blank. A second sword was already upon him, and he thrust out this time, meeting point to point.

Clashing sparks danced through the air, a radiant blue dancing amongst the gold. A variety of twitching changes shifted within Theron's arm. It looked as though his arm was remaining fixed in place, but it was undergoing dozens of minor variable shifts a second, accounting for the tweaks in the sword descending to take his life.

BANG!

The energy of the sword gave way, and a sprinkle of Runes fell in a rain around him, glistening as they fell.

Their shards glided against Theron's body, ripping into him in dozens of thin lines. Streaks of red cut into his cheeks and the vascularity of his arms.

Theron's expression reflected just the same light, as though he hadn't felt the pain at all. He bent his knees, absorbing the impact and maintaining his own momentum.

Taking his father's sword into both palms, he faced off against the next strike. He didn't bother to pay a single ounce of attention to the outside world. He knew that even if they were surrounding this region, not a single soul would dare to take a step into the range of his Tribulation.

Theron could tell that this Mandate of the Heavens was incredibly unique. It wasn't just a single Tribulation at all, but rather two—one for the sword, and one for the dead Wren. Then, on top of this, it seemed to have multiplied in strength because of Theron's presence alone.

However, none of that mattered… if there was only one way out of this place, he would take it.

Theron's arms swung in unison. He expected more strength out of it, but he found that the variable changes were limited by the dual use of his hands.

He regressed, his body being sent flying backward once again. This time, he didn't even get the chance to observe the Runes before he was coughing up blood once more.

Quickly, Theron pushed himself up to his feet, shifting his blade to just one hand. Maybe if he had had a longer sword, there would be some benefit to wielding it with both hands.

But this was a short sword. He had to tap into its very essence.

Unfortunately, this was made harder by the fact Wren's blade was a double-edged longsword.

Chi.

There was no time to think as the next sword came even faster than the first two, whipping through the air with a howling wind. It descended with might and menace, slashing down and across, shifting its angle of attack three separate times before it descended onto Theron and forced him to meet it.

They were becoming stronger, more skilled.

Theron grunted, twisting his wrist so that he didn't miss the final change. At this point, it was already impossible to just focus on dodging. If he didn't grasp the skills locked within the blades in the earlier strikes, adjusting to these changes based on reaction speed alone simply wasn't enough.

At the same time, Theron found another problem. The sword in the distance was still swallowing every blade that came toward it. It was undergoing innumerable changes, and the spiderweb-like lines of Sword Mana were encroaching on Theron.

The sword knew that once this Tribulation was over, it wouldn't be able to attack on its own. If it wanted to kill Theron now, it needed to do it by borrowing the energy of the Mandate of the Heavens.

It was still working slowly now, but eventually, it would be able to grasp this new ability of its own, and its attacks would become sophisticated enough to force Theron into yet another corner.

Chi.

Theron barely recovered to block the next blade. It whistled through the air like a streaking pillar of gold falling from the skies above, so fast that it felt like a line had connected the sky and earth in a single stroke.

The afterimages fused into one laser of blinding radiance, falling akin to a wrathful guillotine. Theron almost fell to a knee meeting it. Had he been wielding any other blade, it would have long since shattered.

BANG!

Theron's chest shook and rattled. He tried to adjust the water in his body again, but it wasn't fast enough. The variations and changes in the blade were too much; he couldn't overcome them through brute force anymore.

He was used to calculating everything—it was why his Water Mana control was so strong. He had to account for every variable, every possibility. There was no opponent he couldn't overwhelm like this.

But he had no experience or talent as a swordsman. He knew that he was somehow supposed to use his Water Mana to mimic and overwhelm it, but he couldn't figure out exactly how to do that.

Theron's eyes sharpened as he suddenly leaned back. A line of thin Sword Mana almost took his head off, the hilt of Wren's sword vibrating in the distance as it slowly pulled itself out of the ground.

'So thin, so hard to detect…'

There was a moment of sudden realization in the depths of Theron's heart. Wren's sword had seemed so unassuming before, but it cut through his Bronze Resonance dagger as though it were wet tissue paper.

There hadn't been any obvious Mana back then, but what if that was because of this… had Wren's Flux Mana just been concentrated so finely? To the point even Theron couldn't sense it easily?

But how was any of this helpful right now?